


Home

by InkstainedGwyn



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Arena, Fluff, Lots of kissing, M/M, Spoilers, arena is just an excuse for souyo, first-person, ultimax - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11079225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkstainedGwyn/pseuds/InkstainedGwyn
Summary: Yu comes back to Inaba for Golden Week with plans to spend time with his boyfriend, but a mystery gets in the way. Still, partners are partners, and always will be.This mostly ignores the plot of Arena (since you can play the game for that) and focuses on expanding the SouYo love. Yu's POV is first, next is Yosuke's, and once I play Ultimax that'll probably be a closing chapter or two. Rated Teen for future chapters.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> I've played Arena, and I wanted to flesh it out from Yu and Yosuke's POV - there's _so_ much SouYo in the game, but as always they play it coy.
> 
> I wanted more than coy.
> 
> I also left out all of the jazz about Yosuke's nurse magazine; it's funny, but I feel like it's also just there as a distraction in case you don't want to feel the SouYo love.

It’s been two months since I last saw Yosuke.

Well, in person, that is. We talk every night on the phone - sometimes during the day - and we skype whenever we can. It’s not really enough, but when you live hours apart, you do what you can, and what you have to. He’s been busy lately, too, so it’s been more than a week since we _actually_ saw each other. I miss him, but I know he’s been working hard because he's taking time off - time off because I'm finally back, for Golden Week.

Honestly, I’d come back every weekend, if I could, but train tickets are expensive - even if I don’t take the shinkansen. I really just want this year to be over; neither of us might be sure of what we want to do in the future, but we _do_ know that we’re going to go to college together - or at least nearby enough that we can get an apartment together.

Call me cheesy (Yosuke certainly would), but sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me going, in the city, without him.

For the umpteenth time, I look up at the clock. It’s an older one, hanging next to the curtains over my window, but it’s more familiar to me than anything in my room in the city. It’s the clock I watched countless times over the last year, every time it rained, waiting for midnight.

Why am I doing it now? I wish it was just a case of ‘old habits die hard’, but it’s more than that. Ever since coming back, I’ve been plagued with an uneasiness that I can’t shake, and I know by now to listen to those kinds of feelings. We went through enough in this past year, and for better or for worse, something’s going on.

Admittedly, I’m more irritated right now than I am worried. I’d come back a day early hoping to surprise Yosuke - my boyfriend, my partner - but when I called Teddie this morning, as I waited for the train out of Tokyo, he gave me the bad news that Yosuke was working a double shift today, in anticipation for tomorrow. I felt cheated - and then I immediately felt bad, because I know that he’s doing it so that we’ll be able to spend more time together while I’m here. That’s my partner, all right. And then, I’d wanted to go by Junes to surprise him on one of his breaks, but I got busy cooking with Nanako, and then Dojima-san came home, and I just…

Well, I’m going to go by his place tomorrow morning. He’s expecting to meet me at the station, but I’ll wake him up with a fancy coffee or something, and maybe I’ll make breakfast, if Mr. and Mrs. Hanamura are already at work. They probably will be, given that it’s Golden Week, and Junes is the only place anybody goes in this town on holidays. It’ll be just like old times… I can see his bedhead, his sleepy face after one or the other of us spent the night, and I- well, I need to stop thinking about that. Clenching my hands for just a moment against my knees, I force the picture out of my mind, along with the urge to pick up my phone and text him. 

The surprise is going to be worth it, that’s what I keep reminding myself. I’d love to hear his happy voice over the phone, but it won’t be nearly as good as seeing it in person. Seeing his face light up - he’s a literal ray of sunshine - and hearing him say “Partner!”, and feeling his arms around my neck and…

And I need to stop thinking about that. 

At least it’s kept me busy, though. Looking up at the clock, I see that it’s almost midnight. Time to put this bad feeling to rest, and-

* * *

_What the hell was that?_

Clenching my fists, I stare at the now-blank TV screen. My hands are shaking so much that it’s hard to unlock my phone screen. _The midnight channel is back, and it’s different, and everybody’s on it._

 _Yosuke_ is on it. Whatever’s going on, however this is happening - different from last time, but still familiar in a strange way - Yosuke’s in danger. The midnight channel didn’t show people that clearly until they were in the TV! Is Yosuke in the TV? _I’ve got to save him!_

Time slows to a crawl as I take a deep breath. I was on there, too. “Sister-Complex Kingpin of Steel,” huh? No matter. Yeah, I love Nanako. Whatever. But… the point is… I’m not inside the TV. So there’s a good chance that Yosuke isn’t either, and I just… deflate. Thank god. Just let him be safe.

Okay. I need to figure out what’s going on, and of course the first person I’m going to call is my partner. My finger hovers over his name - #1 on my speed dial, not even deliberately, just because we talk more than anybody else - and I have to let go of my wistful daydreams about surprising him, in person, the next morning. This is more important.

“H-hello? Hey, partner!”

The relief in his voice is palpable, and I can tell that he was worried about the same thing I was. And I manage to ramp up the fact that I’m here into a _little_ surprise, and while it’s no glowing smile, or arms around my neck, the joy I hear as he says, “Already, partner? Booya!” helps. There’ll be other chances for surprises. But now, we need to talk about what’s going on. 

If this had been two months ago, I would have snuck over - or I would have snuck him in. It’s only midnight, after all. But Dojima’s asleep down the hall, and according to Yosuke, his parents are both home and asleep - they’ll be working the early shift in the morning. I ignore the fact that if whatever’s going on _wasn’t_ going on, I’d have been able to pull a perfect morning reunion the next day, and suggest we meet at Junes. I’d rather meet him at home, but here is out of his way, and there is out of mine, and it’s faster if we just meet at the food court. It’s frustrating, but right now, we need to get to the bottom of all of this - our friends are depending on us. 

As always, we split the list of people to contact; I’ll call Yukiko, he’ll call Chie. I take a deep breath as the conversation winds down; before I can say anything, however, his voice comes back over the phone. It’s not Yosuke Hanamura, IT member, second-in-command. It’s not Yosuke Hanamura, persona user, Junes-manager-in-training. It’s Yosuke Hanamura, my boyfriend, the love of my life. 

“Welcome home. I missed you, partner.”

Of course I smile, the goofy smile he always gave me hell about and that I know he loves.

“I missed you, too, Yosuke. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You, too. And, hey. Yu?”

Just listening to his voice is soothing, but it also makes me want and miss him. I respond with a simple, “Mmmm?”

“I love you.”

And the goofy smile is back. He knows what it does to me, and does it anyway. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

“I love you, too, partner.”

* * *

It’s the next morning, and he’s there when I step off the elevator. His face lights up - _there’s_ the sunshine that I missed so much - but the store is too busy for either of us to throw ourselves at the other, more’s the pity. And really, Yosuke’s always been a private kind of guy; he certainly doesn’t mind public displays of affection, but he’s always felt more comfortable with private ones, and anyway. Chie and Yukiko are probably waiting for us, and I don’t want to seem like the situation isn’t concerning me. So I swallow the greeting I want to give him, and make do with a smile, and we turn to walk out onto the food court together.

When we do, our hands touch, and his finger wraps around mine. Glancing sideways, I see the look in his eyes, and I smile, ever-so-slightly. 

Whatever’s happening, whatever’s going on, I’m here, and Yosuke’s with me. We’ll do what we need to do, save our friends, and then… we’ll make the most of our time together.

* * *

“ _Haaah, haah, hah_. Yosuke, are you okay?”

I haven’t fought in months, and it shows in how out-of-breath I am. The adrenaline pumping through my veins, however, has nothing to do with my being out-of-shape (and I’m really not _that_ bad!) No, the buzz I feel that has me so keyed up that I can feel my katana shake in my hand unless I grip it tightly is because I just finished fighting - all-out _fighting_ , with weapons and personas - against my boyfriend. It was terrible, and I never want to have to do it again. We fought once before, back when we were still learning how we felt about each other, but that was different. That was friend-to-friend, heart-to-heart.  

 _This_ was wrong, and every blow hurt my heart even more than my body. Yosuke said such _horrible_ things before we started, and I just- it can’t. It can’t be him. Something’s going on, they’re manipulating us, and… it’s got to be. I just hope… I hope I wasn’t too hard on him. 

I hope he’s okay.

As I think this, he groans, and in a flash I’m at his side. Offering him a hand up, I’m grateful to see that the aloof look that was on his face is gone; the first words out of his mouth, before I can even speak, set my heart a little more at ease.

“ _Man_ , you coulda gone a little easier on me! But… are you okay, partner?”

That’s the Yosuke I know and love. Feeling more relief than I should - nothing’s been solved about the mystery, after all - I nod, and we work out what’s _actually_ going on. By the time we’re done talking we’ve pieced together at least a little - we’ve apologised, even though I’m pretty sure neither of us are at fault - and we’ve come to terms with the fact that due to the asinine rules of this stupid “Grand Prix” competition, I’m going to have to keep going… and Yosuke’s going to have to stay behind.

I try to put on a brave face, but… how am I going to face _anything_ without my partner?

He understands, I know he does. Before I turn to go, I hesitate, and as I do, I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me even as I bury my face in his shoulder. His familiar scent - detergent, faint cologne, sweat, a hint of orange, and above all, _Yosuke_ \- envelops me, and I feel my shoulders relax. _I can do this_. 

“Be safe, partner.” 

It’s all he says, but it’s all he needs to say. We’ve been together for long enough that we understand each other, after all. I want more, but I know there’s no time for it; besides, he’s given me what I need - reassurance, support, and above all the reminder that even if he’s not physically by my side, he’s _with_ me, and he’ll be with me every step of the way.

Breaking away is the hardest thing, but we both know it’s time, and we give each other a final glance and smile before I head off, and then I’m gone, running to find my next opponent.

The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can be back at his side, after all.

* * *

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, we’re, uh- all really tired. Yeah, we should get out of here and get some rest, ha ha ha…”

 _Oh, Yosuke_. When it comes down to it, however, I find his awkwardness endearing, and let’s be honest  -  nobody else would have known what I was trying to get across, or been able to think so quickly on his feet and back me up. Whether it’s enough, I don’t know; I’m not about to let this situation go, and I’m certainly not going to make any promises to stay out of it - we’re already involved, after all, and my friends are a hell of a lot stronger than these “shadow elimination squad” members understand.

But we _are_ exhausted, and we _do_ need rest. The play, for what it’s worth, is at its intermission, and we’d be idiots not to take advantage of that fact. Jostling each other tiredly, we all climb out of the TV and go our own ways; at least, most of us do. I stand at the exit to the Junes electronics department with Yosuke at my side, and as the last of our friends rounds the corner, we look at each other. 

“I’m spending the night,” he says. There’s a determined set to his jaw, and I’d never argue with it, anyway. Besides, Dojima already knew that Yosuke was going to be staying at least once (or, probably, the whole time, but I can pretend I’m not that predictable). I mean, he gave me an extra pillow for my futon and told me to be responsible.

That counts as approval, right?

* * *

Nanako, as always, is thrilled to see “Yosuke-nii” and even though I’m exhausted, seeing my two favourite people in the world, together, makes me so happy. We make it through dinner, and then through showers (separate; we might be teens, we might be desperate to be together, but we’re also dead on our feet. We’ve dragged ourselves home after enough TV forays to know this routine.) 

I’m out first, and I take a seat on the futon, determined to stay awake until Yosuke’s out of the shower. I manage tolerably well until a pair of arms wraps around me and I start awake, only to realise that I’d been asleep, and that Yosuke is sitting with me, arms around my waist. With his chin on my shoulder, his hair is damp against my ear, and as I reach up to run my fingers through it, he tightens the embrace. 

“Welcome home, partner.” His voice is low, and serious, and _real_ , and I don’t have to remind myself that he’s really with me, because I feel his warmth, the rumble of his chest as he talks, and I can smell his shampoo (he always kept an overnight bag under the sink, and I’m glad to know it’s still here.)

Turning, I see the look in his wide brown eyes, and my heart swells. He lets me turn to face him before wrapping his arms around me again; I follow suit, pulling him close, and when I rest my forehead against his, all I can see is him, his eyes, his love, and that’s all I need to see.

“You said that already.”

“Can’t I still mean it? Besides, we just went through a whole bunch of crap, and we never got a _real_ reunion.”

“Yeah.” Exhaling, I put a hand on his cheek. “I had plans, you know? I was going to come over this morning, wake you up with coffee and breakfast.”

There’s a wry look on his face and he leans against my hand as he watches me; the fact that we still don’t need words to talk is more relief than I would have expected. Being gone for two months, it turns out, hasn’t lessened our bond; if anything, it’s made it stronger. When he smiles at me, I know he’s telling me that there will be more reunions, and he’s right. 

“Yeah.” It’s all I need to say, and when I lean in, his lips are warm. They taste like everything I’ve been missing since I left, and I could lose myself in them for hours, except that we’re both exhausted. But we’re together, and right now, that’s all that matters.

It’s the work of seconds to stand up and turn off the light, and before my eyes have even started to adjust, his hand is around mine, and he’s pulling me into the futon. It’s as if I never left; my head still rests perfectly against his chest, and he’s still at exactly the right distance to kiss me when I look up, and our hands still fit together, fingers twined, as we snuggle under the blankets.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you, too,” he responds. 

We’ve still got a mystery to unravel - and precious little time in which to do it - but I’m finally home.


End file.
